She eased the gloves back on, wincing as the rough material touched her tender skin. She squinted her eyes against the slanting rain.
“We all have roles. Sammy is her shoulder,” Henry said as he piled a scant shovelful of rock into the wheelbarrow.
Lucy stopped in mid-swing. “What does that mean?” she asked. “What’s with the high school nicknames?”
“When she needs someone to lean on, or to cry on. He’s the shoulder. I’m pretty sure he’d like to be more,” he said speculatively. “But for now, that’s it.”
Lucy turned to look at the small group across the field.
Aidan was talking to Sammy and Del now. Del shook her head at something Aidan was saying. Sammy put his hand on his brother’s arm. Aidan shrugged it off and walked away. Lucy wondered what had happened. She saw Aidan hop a low wall and disappear into the jagged terrain left by the orchestrated bombing of what looked like at least three apartment blocks.
Del watched him, too, until Grammalie Rose barked at her. Then she turned around and looked right in Lucy’s direction. It was like being targeted by a laser beam. Even from this distance—at least twenty yards—she could sense the anger in Del’s deep blue eyes. Henry followed Lucy’s gaze. He whistled. One low note.
“Ouch,” he said. “You been trespassing on her property?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She laid claim to Aidan a long time ago.”
“Oh come on!”
“He’s her O-O-H-A,” he said.
“Enough already!” Lucy said.
“Object of her affection,” Henry said hurriedly.
Lucy snorted. “That’s so dumb.”
Henry raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. And he’s always staring at you in a sly, undercover way. I bet Del has been scoping out the situation. You guys figured it out yet?”
Her cheeks burned.
“Do you really like him?” He watched her curiously, his voice serious all of a sudden.
She thought about it. “Yeah, I guess I do. But most of the time I’m so mad at him, I could spit.”
“The path of love never runs smooth,” Henry said, throwing out an arm as if he were declaiming poetry.
“No. I mean, we’re friends but… nothing has happened…. No.” Lucy stopped as the rest of what he’d said sunk in. She couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to look unconcerned. “You’ve seen him look at me?”
“Yeah. He pretends he’s all cool and stuff, but…”
She turned her back and savored this information for a moment, and then spun on her heel to face him. “Wait a minute. What business is this of Del’s? Doesn’t he get any say in this? He’s not a trophy, and he’s not some pet she can put on a leash.”
“I never said he was,” Henry said with a roguish grin. “He plays it really well.”
“Excuse me?”
Henry put down his shovel. “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t mind being caught in the middle of you two.”
She whacked him on the arm hard enough that she felt the sting in her fingers. He stood there rubbing the spot, but the grin never wavered. She gritted her teeth.
“Don’t be stupid!”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m just kidding….”
“Well, don’t.” Lucy grabbed the pickax and hefted it, ignoring the worried look on his face. She worked off some of her annoyance by attacking the ground. After a while, she said, “So are they together?”
“Listen. I shouldn’t have shot my mouth off. It’s none of my business.”
His tone was no longer teasing. She met his gaze. No smirk, no mocking light in his eyes. He looked chastened.
“There aren’t too many secrets in camp. I mean, everyone knew Connor was gaga for Scout months before he made his move. But I can tell you honestly, I think it’s all on Del’s side. Why Aidan would pass up a gorgeous girl like that, I don’t know, but that’s the truth.” He stopped talking all of a sudden. Lucy turned. Grammalie Rose stood behind her. Her clothes were covered in dust. The black leather of her clogs was barely discernible under a thick coating of dirt. Lucy wondered again at the strength of the old woman.
“Is this one talking your ear off, wilcze?”
“No, we were just chatting,” Lucy said, wiping the sweat out of her eyes.
The old woman glanced at the square they’d cleared, the half-filled wheelbarrow, the pile of rocks Lucy had collected, and Henry’s freckled face, dry and unreddened by exertion.
“Too bad you exercise your tongue more than those strong arms of yours,” she said, fixing Henry with a baleful stare. “A couple more hours and some of us can break for lunch. Beth and Ralph found puffball mushrooms in the field this morning.”
“Some of us?” Henry asked. He kept the shovel in motion, exaggerating his breathing. He jerked his head at the pile of rubble.
“I believe that Lucy is responsible for that,” Grammalie Rose said. She turned so only Lucy saw the way her lips twisted in the beginnings of a smile. “However, if you continue at the pace you are setting now, I think you will be one of the luncheon party.”
“Why did Aidan get to slack off?” Henry asked, digging with more enthusiasm than he’d shown all morning.
Grammalie shot him a look. “He works harder than anyone else here. He was in the fields at four A.M. when you were still rolled up in your sleeping bag with those magazines you think I don’t know about.”
Henry mumbled something and turned away. The tips of his ears were an almost fluorescent red.
“Two hours more, I think,” she said, resting her calloused hand for a moment on Lucy’s arm. “At least the rain is stopping.” The old woman walked away in the direction of the camp. As soon as she was out of sight, Henry put down his shovel. “Man,” he said, rubbing his hand along his ribs. “I think I pulled a muscle.” He turned to Lucy. “Think you could check it out for me?”
Lucy barely acknowledged him. Del and Sammy were shouting at each other across the field. Del tossed her pickax aside and threw up her hands. She pushed Sammy away from her. Her hair, loosened from its ponytail, swirled around her face. And then she turned.
With a start, Lucy realized the girl was heading toward her. Fast.
“Uh-oh,” said Henry. “Lady Del’s in a fury.” He picked up his shovel again and moved closer to Lucy. She was oddly touched.
Lucy’s hand stole to her waist. Her fingers found the comfort of her sheathed knife and then fell away. She was hardly going to stab Del, annoying as she might be.
She took a deep breath and stood her ground as Del stormed up. For a moment, neither of them spoke, and then Lucy said, in as mild a tone as she could muster, “Something going on?”
“Hey, Lady Del,” Henry said in a determinedly light voice. “How’s the digging going? Your boy Aidan bailed out early, huh? What a slacker!”
Del’s deep blue eyes flicked over him and then returned to Lucy’s face. Lucy forced herself to stay calm, but it was difficult. She tried to decipher Del’s body language. It was as if she was barely keeping control. And she seemed on the edge of tears.
They had an audience now, too. Beth and Ralph leaned on their rakes. She saw Scout and Connor lower the plow to the ground. Only the youngsters and the older folk seemed unaware of what was going on. Lucy chewed the inside of her cheek, remembering the one and only fight she’d had in grade school, when Gracie Foster had accused her of stealing her heart-shaped pencil eraser. They’d ended up rolling in the dust of the playground with a bunch of kids egging them on. And when Lucy went home that afternoon, she’d had bloody scratches up and down her arms, and her scalp hurt. Gracie Foster had been her best friend after that, all the way up until eighth grade, when they’d gone to different schools. She wondered if Gracie was still alive.